


Falling (Good and Evil remix)

by busaikko



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, M/M, Remix, community:fanfic_in_jest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-05
Updated: 2006-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-15 00:18:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9211496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/busaikko/pseuds/busaikko
Summary: There is falling... and then there is Falling.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Kiss It Better](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/253217) by Musesfool. 



> This is a remix of Musesfool's [Kiss It Better](https://web.archive.org/web/20101007115920/http://www.unfitforsociety.net/musesfool/kissitbetter.htm)
> 
> Beta by the incomparable liseuse.

"Inferior sort of evil you're getting mixed up in, my dear," Ezra Fell said, one well-manicured hand settling with a grip of steel on his associate's shoulder.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, angel." A.J. Crowley finished shelving _The Story of O_ next to _The Missing Piece Meets the Big O_ and stood smoothly. The wide-eyed look of innocence that he attempted to turn on Fell was ruined by his dark glasses and the forked tongue with which he spoke, and Fell averted his eyes delicately, as from someone making a total ass of himself in public, possibly involving tasteless jokes about necrophilia. Crowley shrugged, grinned, and rearranged the cardboard standups of storybook characters into an anatomically-correct orgy. "Which evil is it that fails to meet your standards?"

Fell pushed him gently out of the children's section. "You did something to the velocipede of my assistant's young man, didn't you?"

Crowley raised an eyebrow. "The _young man_ in question _touched_ my _car_. _No-one_ touches my car."

"He could have been killed," Fell chided, pointing out a wooden stool next to the till for Crowley to sit upon and smiling cheerfully at Remus, who was writing out an order for the Mills and Boon people. Remus smiled and nodded back, not seeming to notice Crowley or the conversation with him at all. "He was several hundred metres up when the machine dropped."

"It's a wossit--a metaphor. Falling, you know. Subtle, I thought. Foreshadowing, or do I mean foreboding?"

Fell sniffed and counted out the day's takings carefully. "Not at all your usual style. Petty. But then again, what do you know of Falling, anyway?"

Crowley hissed something rude under his breath.

"Anyway, I kept the poor boy from breaking his neck and I expect him to be here shortly. You are not," Fell said, staring through Crowley's glasses sharply, "to try any of your usual temptations. You've already convinced him that underwear is passe, and I notice that his trousers seem to grow tighter every time you two meet. It's bad for his circulation," Fell said, raising his chin defensively as Crowley smirked. "A fellow needs a healthy breeze around his privates."

"You _are_ tempting in a kilt," Crowley said, and Fell blushed. There were times when he could not entirely judge his associate's sincerity, and it unsettled him.

"Be that as it may, it can't be good for him to wear such things. However does he get them _off_?"

"Rather like peeling grapes," Crowley started, and then the cowbell over the door rang.

"Dear God, Sirius, are you all right?" Remus said, nearly falling over his own feet in his hurry to get to the door and put a supporting arm around Sirius' waist. One leg of Sirius' leather trousers was shredded and stained with blood. He was pale, and muddy, and there were streaks of blood everywhere, as if he'd stuck his hands in the mess and then been compelled to touch himself all over. Still, he grinned widely as he leant on Remus' shoulder.

"My new trousers are wrecked," Sirius complained loudly, and Fell pretended not to notice how he sniffed at Remus' hair.

"Or like being peeled like a grape," Crowley continued _sotto voce_ , smirking.

"Sod your damned trousers, Sirius. ( _"Language, language," Fell murmured_ ) You're bleeding." Remus took him firmly in hand. Apparently, his assistance was a bit too enthusiastic: Sirius grumbled and Remus apologised, and they disappeared into the manager's office with promises of fixing things up.

Crowley mimicked the waving of a magic wand, and Fell grimaced: he was not quite sure what the official position was on the boys' magical abilities. Like their sexual orientation, he had taken the _God made them that way and He had his reasons_ line. Still, it made him uneasy.

"He could just kiss it and make it all better, you know," Crowley said with a cheerful leer, and produced two wine glasses and a bottle of experimental wine from Hokkaido. "Either way, they'll be in there a while. Cheers, angel."

"Mmm." Fell sipped the wine absently (which was the best way, really, to consume experimental wine). They could hear irrepressible laughter from the back room, and then the sound of the door locking itself.

"So, are you still going to leave everything up to free will?" Crowley said, off-hand and already with the slightly rumpled look he affected when drunk.

Fell's eyes narrowed, and he leant forward. "Now, you leave them be, you wily old serpent."

"Oh, yes, they'll be so much better off trying to muddle out the divine plan, won't they? What happens then, you tell me, what happens when each of them tries to _do the right thing_ so hard that it becomes a very wrong thing indeed? What happens then?"

"What was your last brilliant idea--ah, I recall, they ought to go join up with Satan's minion Voldemort, wasn't that it?"

Crowley shrugged, shoulders loose and eyes unfocused. "Dark creature, Dark wizard, a place for everything, and everything in its place. At least they'd put up a united front."

There was a yelp from the office. Fell stared at the door; on the other side, a cracked bone miraculously healed itself. He looked back at Crowley and sipped his wine. "Fine if burning in eternal hellfire's your cup of tea, I suppose. One does like to hope that love and trust go hand in hand on the road to salvation."

Crowley's jaw dropped, then he shut it with a snap. "Fucking hell, are _you_ ever naive." He narrowed his eyes and waved one erratic hand at the books that lined the shelves. " _Othello_ , right, your good friend William. The pagan _Medea_ , there's burning love for you. And then there was that lovely scene with the rats, _do it to Julia_ , what was that?"

" _Nineteen Eighty-four_."

"I will grant you," Crowley said, "it's possible they might make it through together. Might end up living together and running their own charming little bookshop and handing out peppermint humbugs to adorable bright-eyed children. Do you see that happening?"

Fell made a rolling gesture with his hands. "It's the ineffable divine plan, you know. I can encourage them to thwart your wiles, and Voldemort's wiles, and any other wily wiles that are, are wiling about. But I can't just miracle away the trials and tribulations that are supposed to shape them."

Crowley slapped his knee. " _The Crucible_ , that was another good one."

"Presuming to know better than God's divine plan is the kind of arrogance that leads angels to Fall," Fell said primly.

"Oh, well, enjoy your untarnished reputation when those boys have Fallen."

"Why would they Fall?" Fell said uneasily. The noises from the back room were making him grow hot under the collar. Gasps, and groans, the occasional cry, much squeaking from the office chair (Fell wondered whether he ought to do something about it; but perhaps later, when the chair was not occupied) and then finally a hoarse shout, at which Crowley took the wine glass from Fell's hand and the now empty wine bottle and vanished the lot.

"Better sober up," he said, his own posture straightening as he unfolded from atop the stool.

There was another burst of laughter, more squeaking from the chair, and then the doorknob rattled. Crowley turned in the doorway, the bell above him silent (he'd bullied it on many previous occasions: it had learnt its lesson). He pushed his sunglasses up as he gave Fell a long last inscrutable glance.

Then the door opened, the boys came out, trying to look casual, and Fell ducked his head, forgiving them in his heart.

_His boys wouldn't Fall... would they?_


End file.
